


Bright Lights and Good Nights

by Sidhewrites



Series: Born Bold [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Batlantern - Freeform, Bruce Wayne is clueles, Flirting, Hal Jordan is a Saint, M/M, Pining, TFFW, Too Fluffy for Work, but he gets it in the end, really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-20 22:26:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20682923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sidhewrites/pseuds/Sidhewrites
Summary: An unexpected invitee looks like they might make the gala a little more intersting, not to mention the rest of Bruce's night.





	Bright Lights and Good Nights

**Author's Note:**

> This took a bit longer than anticipated, I still find Bruce difficult to write for, but I think I'm getting better at him the more I write him.  
If anyone has any tips on writing Bat!dad I will gladly take them.  
In the mean time enjoy pining and clueless Bruce, and a Hal that is having way to much of a good time.

Bright lights from ornate chandeliers illuminated the room, twinkling like stars off crystal glasses and fine jewelry. Soft voices filled the space, filling it with a dense, continuous buzz, like a swarm of insects, incessant and droning. Bruce slipped into an alcove, taking a moment to escape the crowds, from the needless chatter and prattle of false well-wishers and fair-weather friends. Most nights he didn’t mind playing the part of _Brucie__ Wayne, _billionaire idiot, tailored suit, styled hair, shined shoes and all, but not tonight. Tonight, he found himself rubbing at his temples more often than normal, trying to relieve the pressure in his skull. 

“You look like you could use a decent pain killer...or a drink. Luckily, this shindig provides some high-quality alcohol.” 

Bruce’s hand dropped from his head, and he snapped blue eyes over to amused brown. He steadfastly ignored the way his pulse sped up, and denied the fact that it had nothing to do with being startled. The glowing green and black suit was gone, replaced by a well fitted dark grey suit, and a dark green tie. Hal's brown hair wasn’t styled in any way, but the ‘just tumbled out of bed’ look was working for the man, Bruce found himself annoyed to admit. A quick glance over Hal’s shoulder showed Bruce that they were still alone. The vapid expression he wore as_ Brucie_ dropped and he turned the hard eyes of Batman on the unsuited Lantern.

As usual it had no effect on the man. 

“What are you doing here?” He managed to keep is voice an octave or two above his usual growl, and he was rather proud of himself for it. “I thought I made it clear that-” 

“Yes, yes, I know, I’m,” Hal coughed and lowered his voice, “_ not allowed in Gotham without an invitation.” _ He coughed again and smirked. “But you see, Bruce, I was _invited.” _ Hal’s grin was charming as he raised two glasses of champagne, brown eyes dancing with the same mischief from that night in Gotham, months ago. 

Bruce scowled as he reached for the glass Hal handed him, following him out of the alcove, back into the light of the ball room. “By who?” 

“By you, if you must know.” Hal’s smirk only widened as he took another sip of his champagne, turning to face the room. 

Bruce’s scowl deepened momentarily before he offered a smirk of his own. “I think I would have remembered penning an invitation labeled _ ‘Dear idiot, you are invited to attend......’ _ ” 

“Ouch, Bruce you wound me, truly.” Hal clutched at his chest, stumbling dramatically as if shot, and Bruce found himself having to clench his jaw slightly to keep from smiling. 

Once he was sure no emotion would show in his voice Bruce asked again, “What are you doing here, Jordan?” 

“Aww, you know my name, how sweet!” Hal grinned as he stood straight, shrugging lightly, drawing Bruce’s eye briefly to the line of his suit jacket tightening across strong shoulders. He brought his gaze back to Hal as the man started speaking again. “Like I said, I was invited. This is a function to celebrate a deal between Wayne Enterprises and Ferris Air, to come together to create the future of aeronautics, yes?” 

Bruce raised a brow as he took a sip of his champagne, silently encouraging the other man to continue, still trying to decide if the twist in his gut is, annoyance or attraction......or indigestion. 

“And once the wheels hit tarmac, you’re going to need someone to test it.” He waved the arm not holding the glass in a ‘_and there you have it _’ gesture. 

Bruce blinked as he processed the information. “_You’re_ the former Air Force pilot that Carol Ferris was telling us about?” 

Hal winked at him as he took a sip from his own glass, “The one and only. Don’t sound so shocked. Not everyone can have a lucrative day job, _Brucie _.” 

“I’m just surprised you can hold a steady job, what with the hole _Space Cop _gig. I would’ve guessed that keeps you pretty busy.” 

“Is that concern I hear, from Bruce Wayne of all people? I’m touched.” Hal’s grin seemed honest enough, but the glint in his eye kept Bruce wary. He knew that look of mischief from his own sons. “No need to worry your pretty little head Bruce, my Sugar Daddies are more than capable of keeping me in the lifestyle I prefer.” It’s said with such a straight face that Bruce choked a bit on the sip of champagne he had taken, coughing roughly to try and clear his lungs. 

Hal laughed as he patted him on the back, helping the slightly older man clear his throat. “You okay?” 

“Yes,” Bruce scowled as he coughed once more, taking a deep breath of air. “You did that on purpose.” 

“Course I did.” Hal smile widened, overly pleased with himself. “I wanted to see what it would take to actually make you crack.” 

Bruce could feel a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he fought to hide it, but it was losing battle. “And you thought ‘Sugar Daddies’ was the way to go?” 

“I had others, but that one seemed the most promising.” Hal’s grin was unrepentant as he tossed back the last of his drink. 

They stood in silence as Bruce finished his own drink, before he turned to Hal again. “Carol knows about the Ring?” 

“She does.” the brunette nodded. “I was working full time for Ferris Air when I got it, I had to tell her. We came up with a way to make it work so I can do both. With no one being the wiser.” 

“Hm, smart.” 

“Like I said, not as dumb as the suit makes me look.” 

Bruce smirks as he let’s his eyes flick up and down Hal’s body, taking in the lines of the suit again. It’s not tailored, but it fits him well. “This one is an upgrade.” 

Hal glanced over at him, smirk falling into something a bit more genuine, “Was that a compliment? I’m totally taking it as a compliment.” 

They fell into a sort of companionable silence as they looked out on the ballroom, letting the chatter of the other guests wash over them.

Bruce spun the flute in his fingers, twisting it back and forth, restlessly. He felt like he should say something more, re-engage the other in conversation, but he finds the words won't come to him. Speechless for one of the few times in his life where, out of the armour and the cape, it might count for something. 

He finds himself saved by the man next to him for the second time when Hal speaks first. “So how long is Bruce Wayne expected to stay in attendance at such events as this?” 

Bruce glances over at the curious lit to Hal’s voice. He finds the other man staring out into the floor, watching people twist and turn in time to the music, refusing to even glance at Bruce. 

Bruce looks down at his watch, subtly keeping an eye on Hal, so he doesn’t miss the way Hal looks at him, sees the flash of hope, of interest, in brown eyes, and he can’t help the way his heart jumps at that look. Hal glances away almost immediately and Bruce takes the moment to quickly wet is lips before speaking. “I’m well passed my usual time to maintain a presence at something like this.” He lets the flat line his mouth had fallen into soften, curling around the edges as he turned to face Hal, shoving his empty hand into his pocket and letting his shoulders relax. “Did you have something in mind?” 

“As a matter of fact I did. I was thinking a fight and dinner afterwards.” Hal turned, mimicking Bruce’s posture. 

There was a twist on Hal’s lips, around the way he said the word fight, and Bruce knew that Hal wasn’t referring to a boxing match. Bruce could feel his heartbeat picking up, his pulse starting to race, the hair along his arms and at the base of his neck standing on end. “Where exactly is this fight?” 

“Just outside of town, not that far, and I hear you have this kick-ass plane.” 

“I do.” Bruce could feel his smile stretching, just a bit, to match the excited one that was on Hal’s. 

“Whatd’ya say, Mr. Wayne? Is it a date?” Hal bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, brown eyes dancing with excitement. 

Bruce watched him for a few moments, an odd sense of fondness curling in his gut, a tendril of affection creeping into a place in his heart he thought he’d closed off, but that had been cracking since he took in an orphaned circus boy, and had been being picked at, chiseled away ever since. 

“Meet me on the roof in ten minutes.” 


End file.
